Page 15 of Misbehaving With Minotaurs
I force a smile. “I got lost in thought for a moment. I’m fine, thank you.”
He winks at me. “If I need to defend your honor against a wayward centaur, I’m there, Cath. In a heartbeat.”
I nearly choke at the idea of Manorin taking Vikand on in some sort of fight for my honor. It’s laughable. I think Vikandwould likely crumple to the ground in a heap, begging not to be beaten.
Manorin’s smile grows wicked. “Are we envisioning the same ridiculous scene right now? That male on the ground in front of me, cringing and promising never to insult you again?”
I swat his big chest, resisting the urge to curl my fingers through the soft, flat fur there. “Stop it. He’s perfectly pleasant, and very much a gentleman.”
Manorin scoffs as he rolls his eyes. “Just what every male wants to hear from his bed partners. Oh, Manorin, how perfectly pleasant he was.” He winks playfully. “Never let it be said that I was anything but a ravenous beast in the bedroom. If you ever look back on our time as perfectly pleasant, I’ll expire from disappointment.”
That reference leads me back to all the good times we had. It’s been centuries. But years of memories flood back all at once.
“Errr, no.” I clear my throat. “Perfectly pleasant isn’t really the right description for you.”
He leans closer again, bringing his hands to either side of the doorframe. He fills the entire doorway as he leans into my space, the low light glinting off the ring in his nose. “Is that what you came here to discuss, Cath? A reigniting of all thoseimperfectlyfilthytimes we had?”
I shake my head; I’ve got to get out of here. The mere suggestion of our past times has my power rising and roiling, desperate to be unleashed. “I came to invite you to dinner tomorrow. One night a week, I have the Hector triplets over. Long story about how we met, but I figured it might be helpful to introduce you to some Evertons, and they’re lovely. All witches, and all mated to various haven leaders.”
“Done,” he says simply. No twenty questions about where we’re going and why. No thoughts about how he’s not really into the same sort of things I’m into.
He cocks his head to the side. “Did you not want me to agree?”
I laugh and pat his arm. “Just lost in thought for a second. I should warn you that my neighbors come as well. Ignatius, who’s about to turn seven, is particularly excited to introduce you to his new hellhound puppies.”
Manorin’s dark brows rise. “Hellhounds? Thatisinteresting. Well, I can’t wait. Arkan’s scheduled meetings most of tomorrow, but I’m free all night.”
I clasp my hands together and force a big smile. “Excellent. Dinner’s at six in the private dining room at the back of the house. Come find us when you’re free.”
“Will do,” he says with a smile, nipping at his lower lip as he smiles at me.
His scent wraps me up again, tugging at desires I’ve kept mostly dormant since Wesley. I’d hoped to start dating again with someone safe, someone easy. Vikand is all of those things.
“Good night, Manorin.” I smile up at him.
But as I turn to go, the scent of his obvious attraction follows me, stoking long-dead flames. Annabelle ripples the carpet runner, the kitty cat timer in the kitchen dinging incessantly.
“Oh shit, the quiche!” I shout as I scurry toward the kitchen.
“He’s like…reallyhot,” Thea Hector whisper-hisses as she hands her triplet, Wren, a martini over my island the following evening.
I roll my eyes and purse my lips, barely holding back a smile as Wren thoughtfully sips the martini, smacking her pink-painted lips together.
Thea takes a loud sip from her glass, tossing blond waves over her shoulder. “He was meeting with Shepherd and Aloearlier, and I might have snooped because, well, why not, and, good lord, he’s one hundred percent beefcake.” She bats her dark lashes at me. “Don’t you think, Catherine?”
I shrug. “I hadn’t noticed, girls.”
The triplets’ aunt Lou, who’s about their age, gives me a carefully neutral look, even though the edges of her lips curl upward.
Morgan, the third triplet, snorts and swats my side as she layers cheese on top of a tray full of penne alla vodka. “You’re telling me this hot, handsome minotaur is staying at the Annabelle. And, oh, he’s single, by the way, which I know because Abe told me. But you haven’t happened to notice?”
I sigh. “My focus is elsewhere, as you might remember.” I give the girls a sassy look. They’ve been front and center to my Vikand pursuit for a while now. I swear it’s at least half of what we discuss during “family dinner" every week.
Morgan grabs the pasta pan and turns, slipping it into the oven. Annabelle kindly closes the door, ensuring it doesn’t slam as Morgan returns to the island and sits next to Lou.
She throws a rag over her shoulder, then crosses her arms, an uncharacteristically serious look on her face. “Listen, we’re not trying to be all up in your dating business, but wearehighly invested in seeing you happy. And obviously you’re interested in dating because, Lord knows, you’ve given Vikand all the signals he can possibly get. He’s just not…”—she waves a hand around—“picking them up.”
I blow out a breath. “Actually, we went out yesterday, thank you very much.”
